


Soothe

by CoolDoggo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, basically yuri has a panic attack and doesn't know how to deal with it, but Yuuri helps him through it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 02:11:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13284735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoolDoggo/pseuds/CoolDoggo
Summary: Yuri doesn't want Yuuri to see him, not like this.





	Soothe

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote nearly 3k of Yuuri comforting Yuri during a panic attack. I think I need an intervention. Me @ me, why are you like this.

The day is loud. Everyone is obnoxious. Everything sucks. It’s one of those days which makes Yuri bristle, makes him snap and hiss at everyone who dare comes near him or talk to him. His skin feels like it’s got bugs crawling all over it, and he wants it to stop but _oh god it won’t stop_. At this rate, clawing his own skin off would feel better than just letting it be. Really, what is this stupid, awful feeling? Ugh, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t care, but Yuuri. He wants Yuuri. It’s stupid and childish, but all he wants to do is go home and drink tea and sit on the couch with his boyfriend while they watch stupid TV shows. Yuuri and tea are comforting, the fact his skin feels like it’s on fire and he’s shaking so much he can barely work the keys to their apartment is not.

When Yuri comes home to an empty apartment, that alone is enough to send him into a full scale nuclear level meltdown. Of course, _of course_ all the days Yuuri chooses to work late, he chooses to work late today! He takes a deep breath and holds it in for several moments. It's okay, he doesn't need Yuuri, he can get through whatever weird bullshit he's going through on his own. He always has, hasn't he? At least until he started dating Yuuri and seemingly forgot how to deal with shit on his own. He exhales, and the sudden realization of how spoiled he's become is dizzying, and not in a good way. His knees feel weak, like he can't support his own weight. He manages to let himself collapse onto the couch, but only barely. It's uncomfortable, the position he's in, but his entire body feels like lead, so it’ll have to do.

He throws his arm over his eyes and prays the feeling will pass over soon. Either that, or that Yuuri will come home.

Yuuri’s still not home, and Yuri’s not sure how long he's been lying there on the couch like some kind of useless leaden lump. A few minutes? A few hours? He has no idea, but he certainly doesn't feel any better. Tea. He should make some tea. He takes another shaky breath, and does his best to force his body to corporate.

His body, however, does not corporate very well, if at all. Yuri’s hands can't stop shaking, and every movement feels unwieldy and out of control. He tries his best to ignore the gnawing ache in his chest as he spills too many loose tea leaves all over the counter, tries to ignore the fact he can barely manage to clean them up. Somehow,  he luckily manages to avoid spilling boiling water on himself, so he considers that a win. The victory, however, is short lived. Before he can even make it out of the kitchen, the cup slips from his hands and shatters all over the tile floor. All he had to do is carry this mug of tea to the living room so he can curl up on the couch, easy peasy, right? Nope. Apparently he can't even do that right today. So he does the only sensible thing he can think of, and that is to sit on the floor in the middle of his mess and start to cry out utter frustration.

Earlier all he wanted was for Yuuri to come home, but now, now he hopes that Yuuri stays at work even later because the last thing he wants is to be seen like this. It's pathetic, he's sitting on the floor crying over a shitty broken mug and spilled tea. His head hurts, his chest hurts. Thankfully it's a cheap mug he broke, not one of any sentimental value to either of them, but breaking it in such a stupid way? It wounds his pride. With trembling hands he grabs a dish towel and starts to mop up the tea and pick up shards of glass without trying injuring himself. At this point he just wants to hide under the covers, where Yuuri can’t see how pathetic he looks. He finishes cleaning up his mess, but he’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice the drops of tea and tiny shards of glass left scattered across the floor. Once he plants himself under their covers, he resolves not to leave the room until he can act like an actual person again, or to let anyone see him for that matter, and by anyone, he means Yuuri.  

The minute he walks through the door, Yuuri can tell something is wrong. Yuri’s not lounged out on the sofa, chastising him for working late as he normally does on such days, and his shoes and coat are haphazardly put away.

“Yuri! I’m home!” He calls out to no response. Yuuri sighs. As temperamental as Yuri can be, withdrawing is not the norm for him, and he can’t help but feel as if something is horribly amiss. A quick peek into their kitchen only confirms that fear. Yuuri doesn’t even bother to clean up the rest of Yuri’s accidental mess, just heads straight toward their closed bedroom door and knocks.

“Yuri, Yura,” Yuuri says, “I’m home. Can I come in?”

The moment he hears Yuuri’s voice, Yuri’s heart stops in his chest. No. He doesn’t want to see Yuuri, doesn't want Yuuri to see him like this, curled up under the covers doing his hardest to not continue crying. His pride was wounded enough.

“Fuck off!” Yuri yells back, “Go away!”

Immediately, Yuuri winces. Yuri’s voice lacks it’s usual bite when he tells him to fuck off, which in all honesty hurts more and is more worrisome than his actual words.

“Yura…”He says again, this time a bit softer.

Yuri balls his fists up underneath the covers, his nails digging into the skin of his palms. “Just fucking leave! I’m fine! I can handle myself! I don’t need you!” He doesn’t want Yuuri to go away, to leave him alone, he really doesn’t, but he’ll be damned if he lets him see him like this. It’s humiliating to say the least. Yuuri’s seen him cry before, Yuuri’s held him through his shitty moods before, but this, this somehow seems like too much. This is beyond a shitty mood or a few angry tears.

Yuuri can’t help but flinch at Yuri’s words. His hand hovers over the doorknob, and it takes every ounce of self control he has to not barge into their room. Yuri’s clearly not fine,and Yuuri wants nothing more than to help his love through whatever is plaguing him. Hesitantly, he pulls his hand away from the knob. As much as he’d love to shower Yuri in love and comfort and care, not listening to Yuri’s wishes for privacy will only end in disaster, even if he knows damn well Yuri isn’t handling whatever he’s going through with much success on his own. He bites his lip. Perhaps that’s the most frustrating part of it all.

“I love you, okay? I’ll be here when you’re ready.” He doesn’t wait for Yuri to reply; he knows he won’t. Instead, he heads to the kitchen and begins to clean up the remainder of Yuri’s mess.

Under the blankets, Yuri curls up even tighter and aggressively wipes away the tears forming in his eyes. His throat feels tight, breathing hurts, and he’s scared if he tries to he’ll fall apart. He inhales slowly, and the breath gets caught in his throat and makes him choke. He inhales again, chokes again. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to catch his breath, and soon enough it spirals out of control and he’s sputtering and gasping for air. His chest hurts, his throat feels raw, he can’t breath. He can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to die, if he’s dying.

The moment he hears Yuri begin to hyperventilate from the other room, Yuuri rushes to their bedroom. Fuck it, he doesn’t need permission anymore. He sits down on the bed next to Yuri, and the moment the words _Shhh Yura, I’m here_ leave his lips, Yuri’s crawling into his lap and latching onto him as if his life depends on it. Yuri’s done being proud.

“I feel like I’m dying,” he manages to sputter out.

Yuuri wraps his arms around Yuri and begins gently rubbing the back of his neck. Yuri’s shaking so much he’s practically vibrating in his arms. Right now, Yuuri’s only concern is calming him down enough so he can actually breathe like a normal person.

“You’re not dying, you’re having a panic attack. You need to breathe.” He keeps his voice soft. Soft, but firm.

Yuri tries to breathe, but even something as simple as breathing seems impossible. God, what is his problem today? Can’t work his keys, can’t make tea, can’t even breathe right.

“Easy, Yuri. Slower. Breathe slower.” Yuuri keeps gently rubbing soothing motions on the back of Yuri’s neck. “Breathe with me.” He inhales deeply, and exhales slowly, and hopes Yuri will follow his lead.

And Yuri tries, oh god does he try. Anything to stop this awful feeling. After more than a few failed attempts, he manages to somewhat follow Yuuri’s lead, to inhale and exhale with him, to not start breathing so hard again he’s depriving himself of oxygen.

Yuuri’s voice is calming, soothing. “You’re doing good,” He says, “Just like that. It’ll be over soon.” Not once does he stop whispering gentle encouragement to Yuri, even when he’s not sure if Yuri even has the capability to pay attention to him.

After a while, Yuri manages to match his breathing to Yuuri’s, and he no longer feels as if he’s on death’s door. He lays still in Yuuri’s arms, feeling heavy and full of cold sweat and exhausted. The sharp pains in his chest have since subsided to dull throbbing aches.

They sit like that for a while, Yuuri holding Yuri as Yuuri runs his fingers through Yuri’s hair. Yuri’s hair and the back of his neck feels sweaty and gross right now, but that’s the least of Yuuri’s concerns. The only thing he cares about is making sure Yuri’s panic attack is done and over with for good, that it won’t start back up should they try to do anything.

“How’s your head feeling?” Yuuri eventually asks, speaking softly. His own panic attacks leave him weak and with throbbing headaches, and he can only imagine Yuri must be feeling the same.

“Feels like I just got hit by a truck,” Yuri mumbles. He appreciates that Yuuri is keeping his voice down, because even though Yuuri is whispering, his voice still feels loud to Yuri’s ears.

“Do you think you can walk to the kitchen?” Now that he’s certain Yuri’s in a more stable position, his next concern is getting food and water in him. Plus if he knows Yuri like he thinks he does, he probably has barely eaten the entire day.

At first Yuri scoffs at the question. How pathetic does Yuuri think he is? Of course he can walk to the kitchen. Without saying anything, he tries to get up only to have his knees immediately buckle underneath him. Fortunately, Yuuri catches him and steadies him before he goes tumbling to the floor.

Before Yuri can say anything, Yuuri says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s normal to feel weak after having such a bad anxiety attack. You’ll feel back to normal in the morning, but for now, let me help you, okay?”

All Yuri does is shyly nod in response. His hands and legs are shaking something fierce again, so as embarrassing as it is, he’s glad Yuuri is helping him even if he’d never admit it.

Thankfully, it’s a short walk to their kitchen, so he doesn’t have to suffer too much embarrassment. They get to their kitchen, and Yuuri sits him down at their table before he wordlessly walks off to fetch Yuri a cold rag and a water bottle. He quickly comes back and begins pressing the rag against Yuri’s face, gently wiping away the remains of dry tears and cold sweat from his face and forehead.

“How’s that feel?” Yuuri asks.

The coolness feels good against Yuri’s clammy skin, and Yuri simply nods.

“Good,” Yuuri replies. He places the rag on the back of Yuri’s neck before he goes to unscrew the water bottle. He gently places it in Yuri’s hands. “Drink slowly, okay?”

Again, Yuri nods, but the minute the water bottle reaches his lips, he’s gulping it down and almost ends up choking on it.

“Slower.” If it’s one thing Yuri will never understand, it’s how Yuuri can sound so gentle and reassuring, yet demanding at the same time.

This time, Yuri drinks slowly, the cold water soothing his sore throat.

After Yuri’s done drinking, Yuuri asks, “Are you hungry?”

Yuri shakes his head. The last thing he wants to do is eat. He’s tired. All he wants to do is go to bed and have Yuuri spoon him the entire night.

“You need to eat something. You probably haven’t eaten since this morning, is that right?”

“I felt like shit all day, wasn’t hungry,” He mumbles, looking away from Yuuri’s concerned gaze, but not before catching a brief pang of guilt in Yuuri’s eyes.

“Oh Yuri, why didn’t you call me? I would have come home if I knew you weren’t feeling good.”

He simply shrugs in response. “I thought I’d be fine on my own. And then it got bad and I got embarrassed and didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t even know what was happening, but I felt pathetic. I couldn’t even make tea right.” He pauses for a moment before adding, “What was even happening?”

“You had an anxiety attack, a bad one. You know like the ones you help me through sometimes? You had one of those yourself.”

Anxiety attack? Over what? Nothing out of the ordinary even happened today! “Why though? Nothing even happened. It was the same shit. I went to the rink, I practiced, then I came home and fell apart. I was just a bit more irritable than usual, but that’s normal for me.”

“Don’t need a reason to have one. Sometimes they just happen. I get them for no reason from time to time.”

They look at each other for several moments, neither of them saying anything before Yuuri reaches out and gently grabs Yuri’s hands. “Yura, I know you don’t get anxious very often, but next time you start to feel this way, let me know, okay? I don’t want you to through these by yourself. I don’t care if I’m at work or you’re embarrassed and want to tough it out. Hopefully there is no next time, but if there is, I want you to let me know. You help me through mine, so let me help me through yours. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Yuri looks down at Yuuri’s hands in his, and goes to hold them back while he waits for Yuuri to finish speaking.

“Promise me that?” Yuuri asks.

Suddenly, Yuri feels a bit sheepish. Why is Yuuri always so good to him? “Yeah, I can try.”

Yuuri leans in and kisses Yuri’s forehead. “Good, that’s all I ask. Now, pick something for dinner. It’s late, but if you want I can cook you something real quick, or we can order out. You pick.”

Yuri just whines in response. He really just wants to go to bed. “Can’t I just eat in the morning? I really just want to go to bed. I’m tired and my head hurts.”

All Yuri gets in response is a deadpan stare. “No, Yuri, you need to eat something. After dinner, we’ll go to bed, okay? I know you feel like shit right now, but trust me, eating will help.”

He huffs in response. “Fine, you ass. Can we get noodles from the Chinese place?”

That’s the Yuri he knows. Yuuri lets out a small laugh, relieved that Yuri’s starting to get his personality back. “Sounds good to me.”

Chinese noodles before cuddling in bed, somehow, that doesn’t seem like a bad way to end a terrible day.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, only tea cups were harmed in writing this fic. 
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr! Http://yuriyuu.tumblr.com


End file.
